What to do about the FOG

We're heading into the Christmas season, so all around us are images of that red-suited Figure of Giving (FOG), who shall remain nameless here in order not to wreck everything for those who still thinks he sneaks around putting goodies in HUH (Hung-Up Hosiery) or UAT (Under A Tree).

For many LDS families, there isn't even a question about FOG. Their kids grow up believing in his Christmas Eve wanderings, and happily pass along the same sense of wonder and magic to their children.

I am emphatically in that group. But I understand those who have misgivings.

I have one friend who was terrified by the actors playing FOG in department stores and on street corners. He had no desire to bring that "magic" into his home.

But he and his wife make sure their kids are never a source of disillusionment to others. They agree that what they have decided for their home is not a decision they have a right to impose on others.

Some parents decline to invite FOG into their home because Latter-day Saints should not be in the disillusionment business. And the day of disillusionment about the FOG will come, however long children put off telling their parents the truth about the whole thing.

When children discover that the items left in HUH or UAT, the treats that were eaten, and the notes left for children to discover were really from Mom and Dad, what if they become suspicious of other tales from the same source?

Tales like the Resurrection, the Atonement, miracles, creation, visions and revelations may, these parents fear, become lost in the FOG.

My wife and I worry about that, too, and so did our parents. All have been careful to draw a bright, clear line between the fun of FOG and the serious matters of the kingdom of God.

My parents told us, when we were very young, the tale of the first Christmas when their firstborn was of an age to know about the FOG.

Surrounded by presents, wrapping paper, boxes and gift cards, my sister looked at my parents and said, "Daddy, Mommy, what did you give me?"

The problem wasn't ingratitude. She was grateful — to the FOG.

My parents decided then and there that the FOG would no longer play such a prominent role at Christmas. He filled the HUH, but left only one item per child UAT.